Softer Than Rough
by ThinkStupid
Summary: Rowan Richardson is an international French spy with a licence to kill. Being only 24 and stunning, he's never been suspected as a killer. But stepping on America's ground has gotten him into a lot of trouble. He stumbles upon Lani Presley, America's top spy, who is a total mystery to him. He will stop at nothing to find her true identity and hopefully kill her. AU RONI.
1. Chapter 1

**Softer Than Rough**

You Stole My Prey

A blanket of white sheet covered the mass of area on cut grass. A groom, almost 6ft tall and broad, stood nervously at the altar with a young, probably 24 year old priest calming him down. An estimate of over seventy people have joined the wedding ceremony, sitting at their slightly creaky metal seats, in wait of the bride to come. No one suspected for anything to happen. Not even the groom himself. Stepping into the light of day was no other than the bride, in her glossy and prissy white wedding gown. The relatives and friends among those who waited, gasped in awe of her beauty. Two children were following her, dropping red and white flower petals. The bride's maids were in front of the children, giving those at the edge of the aisle violets. It was like a splendid show. When the bride reached the altar, she smiled with her future husband smiling back at her.

As the priest talked about vows and love, Rowan looked at the bride. She was indeed beautiful and the makeup put a nice touch to her face. He actually felt sympathy for her. She was going to lose something important today.

"Do you, Emily Rosetta Jones, take Jake to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked.

With one more look at her, Rowan slyly took out his gun. "I do—Jake? Honey?"

Rowan slid his gun back in his belt and narrowed his eyes as the groom stepped back. A mass of blood splayed on his back; ahuge circle surrounding a hole that was created. No sound was made from the shot. _A silencer. _Rowan thought and he immediately stood up as the bride and relatives screamed. He scanned the area and saw someone slip out. Most probably an assassin. Hurrying after the murderer, Rowan casually walked out of the tent. He saw a lock of black hair, disappearing into the woods. He ran after this mysterious person, hoping to get an answer for killing his prey.

A mutter was heard in the distance so Rowan hid behind a tree, getting as close as he could to the voice. He peeked his head out a little to see the back of a girl's head. Black hair, pale skin that almost looked camouflageable against her white summer dress. She obviously wasn't dressed for the wedding but he wasn't convinced. She was talking in a low voice on the phone and he could spot a couple of scars on her arm.

"I killed him, sir. Jake Camp." With newly found evidence, Rowan stepped out of the shadow of the tree he hid behind and made a snapping sound as he stomped on some sticks.

The girl whipped her whole body around in shock. And because of that, Rowan froze, looking at her memorisable sparking blue eyes. They looked deadly and electrifying, which made Rowan want to touch her. To feel the thrill of what would happen.

"What are you doing here?" The girl asked, suddenly bringing him back to Earth.

Rowan spotted that she was reaching for her back, probably for a hidden gun. She was smart but not sly. "I should be asking you the same thing." He said and whipped out his gun. "I know what you did and you obviously know me."

The girl looked at his gun then narrowed her eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He scoffed, clicking the safety lock off. "Please. You killed Jake Camp. You killed _my_ prey. I'm just wondering why. Why would you do something like that?"

The girl crossed her arms, smirking. "I'm sorry, 014, but you can't claim your targets."

"So you do know me?" Rowan was unsteady of her knowing his agent name.

She laughed. "Of course I know you. You're one of France's best spies, are you not? Rowan Richardson. Age 24. Known to be a womanizer…" Her eyes narrowed at him. "And someone that I'd naturally loathe."

This girl was good. Too good. Probably from an American ethnicity, judging her accent and looks. Rowan had to be careful. She had weapons. She probably had people in the woods, just waiting on her signal to attack him. A gulp at the throat, he slid his gun back in his belt.

"Why take my prey?" He asked, wary of her.

Rowan was careful. He knew women and how deceiving they could be. Just one word could make you swoon. They could wrap you around their small little fingers in just one night's worth of effortless work. But this girl- no, this _woman_ was different. She looked like she didn't have an interest in him, just his profession and reputation.

"You're a French spy, allied with the British intelligence's FBI head, Archie Craig." The girl replied. "You've intervened with our plans for many years as well, so, I've come to stop you. Go die in hell, Richardson!"

With quick reflexes, Rowan took a step to the side as a knife scratched the shoulder of his blazer. He bit his lip and took out his gun, about to shoot her—

"Arrrgh!" He shouted as his dropped his gun.

Blood dripped. The red liquid sliding down from a knife that was stabbed into his hand to his fingertips. She threw it at him. Both knives had a good aim. No doubt was she a good sniper; it was amusing and he smiled. This was the type of thrill he was looking for. Been 4 years since his body was surged his alkaline, maybe the blood rush fused him up.

In a heartbeat, Rowan pulled out the knife and threw it away, a slight smile creeping up on his lips. "No guns and knives." He said.

The girl scoffed and held her fists out in front of her in a fighting stance. "Obviously. Military weapons are _so_ overrated."

A laugh rolled out of his mouth as he got into position. At the same time, they both sidestepped in a circle, eyes narrowed with concentration. Rowan smirking with interest and the girl gritting her teeth in distaste. Only the sounds of rustling leaves and birds chirping in the distance were heard before the launched at each other. Their own legs and arms clashing and small groans of pain escaping in between their gritting teeth. The intensity of the close combat duel was swift and long.

Rowan tried for his round-a-house kick at her head, but he underestimated the ground, which ended with him slipping on wet leaves. He landed back first onto the terrain, however, his head slammed onto the ground anyway. His mind became fuzzy and he cursed under his breath, about being a lousy spy. In his vision, the girl stood above him, her vibrant blue eyes gazing down. She seemed to be enjoying her victory. He knew. He noticed the same smirk, one that she pulled just then, on his face a couple weeks back, when he had accomplished with killing a terrorist before an explosion occurred.

The girl, having such a big ego at the moment, crouched down on top of him with a blade she pulled out from her boots. The shining silver knife lay above his Adam's apple, just about scratching the tiny hairs of his slight stubble under his chin. Although the American agent was sitting above him, her weight felt like nothing but a bag with a laptop stuffed inside it. The theory was quite reasonable since her every move was a lightweight, somewhat similar to astronauts walking on the moon.

After dragging the sharp blade from his chin to his collarbone, the girl opened her mouth. "I can kill you right here, right now." She said, almost as if she's thrilled to see it happen.

Though the threat meant nothing to Rowan. He's been in a situation like this several times. He wasn't going to panic or plead her for mercy. "Then do it. No one's stopping you."

The girl, not pleased with his answer, sighed. "That's the problem. No one's stopping me and it's boring the hell out of me. I'm not even ordered to kill you and yet I really want to."

"What does that have to do with me—actually, listen. If you're not going to kill me, get off me. I have better things to be doing than hear your sob stories and threats." He growled, already giving up on even trying to at least persuade her.

Truth be told, he wasn't going to kill her. He had a licence to kill, but he was only allowed to draw blood if he was ordered to. Shit like this was going to get him into deep trouble and he'd rather stay out of it than get involved.

The girl had other plans, tutting and shaking her head. "You listen to me, Richardson." She leaned down and whispered into his ear. He could have been aroused by it, considering she, even though he doesn't want to admit, was 'hot', he was in deep, deep, _deep_, shit. "I'm bored as fuck. This little 'fight' that we engaged in, was quite…exhilarating and I don't intend on letting you die to have me rot with boredom."

Rowan narrowed his eyes, thinking of what she might possibly be up to. "I don't understand what you're trying to say."

A smirk grew on her face, a different smirk. One that layered over her victory smirk. A mischievous one. Then she light tapped his chest, getting up to her feet. "I'll see you around soon, Richardson. And remember, I'm tracking your every move. Step on my land and intervene, kill my people, I'll bring out the landmines."

With little effort, Rowan raised a brow. "Americans are very civilized, aren't they?"

This time, the girl gave a wicked smirk. "No, it's just me."

Before he could say more, she dashed into the wood, passing through as many trees as possible. And soon, she was out of sight…and out of mind. Rowan was left to lie on the ground, taking his time to process. Then, with a grunt, he got up, feeling the pain in his back and head. He had bruises all over but it wasn't really what distracted him. He needed to know who the American was. Why she was after him, and obviously, to kill her…with permission of course.

* * *

**Please wait for the second, also known as the last, chapter of the two-shot. **

**Impatient to know what happens between Lani and Rowan?**

**Too bad you gotta wait!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Softer Than Rough**

We Meet Again

Stupid English spies. They were rather hard to fool, and full out looks like this were needed. Lani ditched the boots, stuffing them into her bag and opted to run in her socks the next three miles. She reached her house, sweaty and overheated by her coat. Lani's house was a quaint thing, something you'd never expect her to live in, which is why it made it so perfect. A pale green house with red shutters and door, and a whitewashed front porch.

Not quite Lani's style, but it was an excellent cover. She hopped the fence into her backyard, and quickly found the key taped behind the siding, and unlocked the back door, collapsing in a messy heap on her kitchen door, breathing heavily.

"Really shouldn't have had the full dinner," she muttered to herself. It took her a long moment to control her breathing, finally rising back up and getting a glass of water. She slowly climbed the stairs, removing her coat, top, which was now stained in blood from the night's dirty work, and her jeans. She dropped them in the laundry chute, and passed out in bed.

She was awoken by a rather annoying ringing.

_Ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring._

Lani opened one eye irritably to find none other than Alex Turner holding his phone up to her ear. Lani, like any sensible person, shrieked and punched him in his rather chiselled jawline.

Alex winced, clutching his jaw as Lani grabbed the shirt haphazardly stuffed between her bed and her nightstand and slipped it on. "What are you doing in my room? In my house? On my street? In my city? On this side of the hemisphere?" Lani spat at him.

A slightly humorous yet nervous chuckle escaped the brown eyed boy's lips as he stood at the side of her bed. He was in his casual attire, not a suit that he would have generally wore to the office or headquarters. Just looking at him in his warm and comfortable position made Lani realize she wasn't going to get the rest that she needed and wanted.

Her eyes narrowed, bothered by the bright and calming vibe that radiated from Alex. "What is it this time? I was in the middle—"

Alex raised his pale-ish white hand down to her, to stop her from talking. "You've been sleeping for 5 hours, which should be enough sleep for an agent such as yourself. I know because I was in the corner, watching you sleep…"

The man in front of her grinned, finding that her reaction was too hilarious to look at, which it probably was. Lani made the worst and ugliest expressions ever. She knew it. Her co-workers knew it…and even her parents. But she didn't stop with the faces. No one said she couldn't pull them.

Lani opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted, yet again, by Alex. "Kidding. I was joking, agent Presley. But you have gotten the time you needed to rest."

She still wasn't sure. Alex can be very sneaky at times, a good liar and definitely very jokey. He's never really the serious type. Lani sighed, giving into Alex's horrible and sucky jokes and sitting up and straightening out her shirt. "What is the mission?"

A smirk, noticing that she was finally listening to him, creeped onto Alex's mouth. He grabbed a chair that was leaning against her cupboard doors, and placed in on the side of her bed sitting on it. "Still afraid of the Boogeyman, Lani?"

Lani glared at him, already getting a migraine from just having him in the room. "Just tell me for god's sake!" She yelled.

While she was fuming out imaginary smoke from her ears and nose, Alex took out a file from his backpack. On the file, the name read: Deyra Mumcu. "A few months ago, you've encountered with Agent Rowan Richardson of the French intelligence, am I right?" Alex didn't wait for Lani to nod since her eyes brightened the moment he mentions the French spy's name. "A week ago, we found him walking into Turkey's dignitary, Deyra Mumcu, dressed as a janitor or some sort of household worker. We believe that he's there to assassinate this person."

Lani narrowed her eyes. "He can't do that. We've been keeping a close tab on Deyra Mumcu for a very long time! He can't kill this person, it's supposed to be in our hands—"

"Exactly, agent. That's why I asking you to go and take this person out before he does. No more humiliation from the European countries." Alex's voice was serious and hard, noting that he was serious about this, and if the mission fails, Lani could risk losing her licence and position on the field.

Five minutes later, Lani begrudgingly sat at a small table at la Madeline, a French cafe. She wasn't interested in the pastries, but they didn't have working security cameras, and their coffee didn't totally suck. She had already decided on florist as her way in, and Alex was setting it up, AKA commandeering a florist's truck and pulling a uniform up.

Lani never asked how Alex got everything, but he did, so there was that.

"Coffee, keys, phone, bag, files, dry cleaned suit, and baklava from the restaurant down the street." Violet appeared next to Lani. Lani considered her a worthwhile investment, as far as interning spies went. Violet was eighteen, with blonde hair and green eyes. Lani had always been slightly jealous of her – she had the face of a model, and the body of one too – but Violet had chosen the covert work instead of LA, just like her mother, and since the wouldn't let in minors, Violet had been assigned to Lani as a cover story, a personal assistant.

"Perfect, perfect, for you, perfect, perfect, suit's for you, and thank you." Lani pushed the suit back towards her as she collected the other things off of the table, stuffing the folder into the bag – which was full of gadgets, and sliding the keys back across to her. Violet pouted, but picked up the florists uniform and the keys to the truck.

"So, how does this work?" Violet asked, taking a sip of my coffee. Lani shrugged. "Borrowed Alex's car, you take my truck, and then we just get in there and work our butts off!" she said, as cheerfully as one could muster with five hours of sleep. Violet rolled her eyes and muttered something about sarcasm. "For a minute I thought I was doing this all alone." she complained.

Lani could feel her frustration – Violet had been working for her for six months, and before that her mom, at least until she was seventeen. "Not my call kiddo."

"Don't call me kiddo. God, you're not even twenty five."

Lani resisted the urge to do Violet's favorite thing – roll her eyes – but instead stood up from the table, coffee and baklava in hand. "Let's go."

The plan was rather straightforward, actually. Lani drove up in a Mercedes, a nice car but not too nice, at least for a florist, with Violet driving the truck behind her. Lani apologizes for the original florist's not making it, and the two are in. Violet, being Violet, would distract them, and Lani would slip away. Lani looked more the part anyways, with a white shirt, black pencil skirt, and undeniably heels that could kill a man (apart from the fact she had switch blades hidden in the heels).

And it worked – at least to get them through the gate. They took extra special care in the truck, as their scanners couldn't get into it, but they couldn't check Lani's car, since it was plated with a heat reflective. They pulled into the parking lot. As Violet jumped out, truckers' hat proclaiming MARIE'S FLOWER EMPORIUM pulled low over her face. Lani took a graceful step out, carefully collecting her bag, and taking a sip of her coffee as Violet and one of the security guards got a cart laden with flowers down, and she wheeled it into the house, following Lani.

"This is stupid." Violet muttered.

"Shush now, I know everybody else caught that horrible strain of the flu, but count your blessings. Instead of here helping me you could be stuck in bed." Lani pointed as a way of hushing her up. Luckily this place was not wired for as many cameras as you would think, but she had the sense to know there were microphones throughout the first floor.

Violet rolled her eyes as the two of us followed one of the workers into a large, stately living room. "Great, I can work with this. Would you be a dear and show me the dining room? I'll also need to work on a statement piece."

The worker shrugged, leading Lani out of the room, leaving Violet and the cart in the living room, looking annoyed as ever.

Lani quickly started firing off questions about the house, craning her neck like a tourist and gawking, as any normal gal would.

The dining room was stately, with a long table. "Mmm, three main centerpieces I'm thinking, here, here and—" Just then, a smoke alarm went off. 'Thank god' she thought. 'I just realized I don't know shit about flowers.'

The worker said some mangled English to her and hurried off, and that's when Lani stuck her hand in her pocket, bringing out her phone and quickly turning on OVERDRIVE mode.

The cameras popped and sizzled, in fact, that was the whole first floor, and Lani made a run up the stairs. The sprint sounded easy, like the first few hallways were clear but after she made it past the second lavatory, she spotted guards. Security guards, to be precise. They were everywhere now. Filling the entire floor, standing at every door, and holding guns at their hands. Lani cursed under her breath, thinking about how obnoxious she was and praying that Violet wouldn't blow her cover.

She slowly turned back, as quietly as possible, and headed the other way to give herself some time to think and plan things out. It was natural to be in a situation like this. Heck, this has happened to her before, when she had to kill the dictator of North Korea. What was the problem here and there was that she _didn't_ kill him and the place she was in now was rooted down to her home's ground. She had to think. Damn it, why didn't she plan this out _before_ the whole operation started?

Being too focused on planning her idea, Lani didn't see a tall man step outside of a janitor's closet and when she did, it was too late. With a loud thud, the two crashed into each other, Lani toppling over the man as he fell onto the marble ground. Lani, pulling herself up on her hands, muttered an apology but froze when she was met eye-to-eye with no other than Rowan Richardson. She stared into his blue-ish hazel eyes with wide eyes. She knew Rowan was shocked too but she was surprised to run into him so soon.

"You!" They said in sync with similar tones of disgust.

"Assholes, all of you, messing up my missions! G-" Rowan began to shout for the guards, presumably to capture Lani, so she placed a hand firmly over his mouth and dragged him and his things into the janitor's closet. She hated that guy. She quickly applied pressure to his throat, and in a few seconds, he had blacked out.

Of course, he only stayed like that for a few moments, enough for Lani to take off his coat and smear her lipstick around his face. He did so, jerking awake. "Wha—you." His eyes narrowed in the dim light at Lani.

"Shhh shh now. If you call for the guards, they'll try and kill you too - it looks like we were hooking up." Rowan took in Lani's appearance, with her messed up outfit, shirt half unbuttoned, and bra showing. Rowan narrowed his eyes at Lani. "God, I hate you."

Lani smirked back at the blond haired boy in front of her. "Which is exactly why I put you in this situation, butthead."

She saw him fidgeting with something but didn't seem to notice what it was. "What are you doing, Richardson."

Then the fidgeting stopped and Lani saw Rowan stare right back at her. "Trying to escape from your horrible, horrible self. I mean, come on. Out of all the scenarios you could have chosen, you chose one that includes us having a stinkin' secret affair!"

Amused by his yelling, Lani raised a brow. "Affair? I never knew—"

"What's wrong with you? Of course I don't have a girlfriend, but this, this is classed as sexual harassment! Rape—" Rowan could have said more but as quickly as she could, Lani held her hand over his mouth again to silence him as footsteps pass.

"Alright. You can shut up now." In a situation like this, Lani couldn't complete her mission but lucky for her, she had the guy she was competing with wrapped around her fingers right now. "We're leaving."

Without another word, Lani knocked Rowan out.

* * *

**NOT A TWO-SHOT ANYMORE!**

**This is made by Catherine and co-writer Idasai (Id65). **


	3. Chapter 3

**Softer Than Rough**

Our Colleague Sucks

"Why did we have to use my apartment though?" Violet complained. Rowan was now sitting in her bathtub, bound and gagged, with duct tape covering his hair, just for the extra 'fuck you' of it all.

"Because I wasn't using mine. Plus the drugs we put him on, he won't even remember the floor." Lani hissed at her.

Violet rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone, propping her legs up onto her coffee table.

"I thought you lived with your mum." Lani commented.

Violet shrugged. "She just bought me these digs and left me."

It must've been hard, growing up with one parent, especially a spy. Violet, obviously uncomfortable, stood up. "Well, I'm going to get the best BBQ in town - gonna be like forty-five minutes. Don't completely kill him without me!" And with that, Violet left.

Lani sighed. It had been hell getting out of there.

Then there was a banging from the bathroom - apparently, somebody had awoken, but it quickly quieted.

Rowan awoke with a startle, having thoughts of a weird dream. He remembered when he had infiltrated the home of the Turkish VIP as a janitor, pretending to clean the area, and then suddenly he saw the agent from a couple of months ago…Lani Presley, the spy whom he had searched up on the high tech computer back at base—_Shit_.

He knew where he was, why he was bounded and gagged and he really had to get out before she came in. With a struggle, Rowan tried to get himself up from the bathtub and surprisingly, he had accomplished the small objective. If only his luck didn't run out; he slipped on a rubber duck and without balance (because of his bounded body) he fell back into the tub, earning a loud thud and groan.

_Bordel de merde!_ Rowan swore at his clumsiness.

In a swift motion, the door slammed open and in strolled the devil in—

Rowan erupted with a wave of laughter as he saw the girl in front of him wear pyjamas with the _PowerPuff Girls_, imprinted all over. "_Oh mon Dieu!_" He said, curling in to hold his stomach from exploding.

He felt and heard the huff of unsatisfactory come from the girl who kidnapped him and as he looked back up, trying and failing to stifle his laughter, Lani crosses her arms. "…It's not mine! It's my colleague's!"

Just then a small blonde girl with hair almost as pale as her skin flounced into the room. "I think they're just dashing," she said, a small bit of a British accent faintly creeping into her voice.

"Yeah, and you're how old, fourteen?" Rowan asked with a snort. The girl really was tiny. Her face certainly wasn't innocent, but what he was really trying to do was provoke her, and it worked, as she made a hiss of outrage, her eyes narrowing. Lani held out an arm to block her from moving forwards.

"No. We need him alive."

The girl glared at Rowan, her green eyes sparking dangerously. "Why?" she growled, her hand suddenly producing a knife as she swung her hand out, a six inch blade that gleamed dangerously.

"He has intelligence. Intelligence we need, and he has a way to get back into the embassy Violet." Lani said calmly.

"Violet? Your name is Violet? Like the flower?" Rowan asked, scoffing. Violet, instead of doing what he wanted her to do, AKA attack him, turned on her heel and stalked out of the bathroom. Lani stared at Rowan, her eyes cold, before turning and leaving, the bathroom door clicking shut, her _Powerpuff_ pyjamas making Rowan stifle a laugh.

In the silence of the bathroom he was held captive in, Rowan entertained himself. Well, that was what _he_ thought. From training since he turned 5 years old, Rowan obtained his skill of silence, jumping up from the bathtub, however he didn't really have balance when it came to being tied up.

_THUD!_

"Oof!" Rowan went with a groan.

The pain in his back was like hell, a bruise probably forming as he thought. Then the door opened and n popped the head of his newly acknowledge nemesis.

"You shouldn't really be getting up. With your height and _incredible_ heavy weight, you may end up with a concussion." Lani smirked, that one smirk she always pulled when she knew she was right or true, something that he had come to notice even if they had only had two encounters.

Rowan sighed as she closed the door again. He heard the sound of the other girl – Violet – squealing at something. Most probably ice cream because they've been chanting the word for almost a minute. It wasn't a sigh of giving up, just one that meant he had to wait and rest, see what they were going to do with him. After all, they're both spies and they have the intelligence that is common when being the secret business.

* * *

_That bloody bastard. I swear I'm going to _kill_ him when I get the chance!_ Archie growled to himself as he drove in his car. The car wasn't fancy or big, otherwise he'd be too noticeable and not normal.

Yes. He was pissed.

Yes. He was abandoned.

And yes. He was going to murder the man who got easily kidnapped by two _American_ girls.

A hand ran over his blond hair, which was messily laid out from the stress Rowan was giving him. They were supposed to be here for business, not for fun, and yet Rowan gets to go and, might possibly, have a kinky-as-hell threesome or something. Archie's eyes were on the road, a box of pizza sitting in the passenger's seat and his disguise, a pizza delivery guy's uniform. Archie was lucky there was an excuse for him to go to the address that he had stolen from the pizza place.

As soon as he arrived, Archie got out of his car, making sure to park two blocks down, and walked towards the home of the customer. Once he made it to the front steps of the door, Archie gulped, gave a nervous yet happy smile, something that delivery men he'd known had done. A calm and gentle sigh left his mouth as he counted to ten. He knew how he was going to act. He had always acted the same way in front of women. Nice, innocent and polite. It was a curse or something. Probably been brainwashed by his mother who had forced him into watching feministic TV shows and taught him how to treat a lady.

The door swung open before Archie could knock on it. He immediately gave a smile, showing the person at the door why he had come. However, his smile slightly falters when he sees who stood there. In her vest, which was under some sort of cardigan, shorts and slippers was a blonde haired girl. A prepossessing, drop-dead gorgeous girl who was approximately 5 inches shorter than him. She stared up at him with green eyes, a perfectly blonde brow raised and a spoon in her mouth.

_I wouldn't mind having a threesome with _her_._ He thought to himself.

She was eating ice cream, from what Archie could see. It was obvious, considering she was indeed holding a half-empty tub of _Ben &amp; Jerry's_cookie dough. Archie pointed down at the pizza cardboard box down in his hands, loss for words. "Erm…Uh…" He could tell that this girl was enjoying the struggle of him speaking from seeing the corners of her lips twitching up. "…Pizza. I mean, here's your order, Miss Violet Painter."

And there he went again. His damned politeness. Oh yes. He was definitely screwing this up for both Rowan and him.

* * *

The thing you must understand about DC, is that the takeout guys are burned out teenagers and old dudes. So, when a hot hunk of a twenty-something guy was standing at my door, with gorgeous eyes, a British accent, and blonde hair, I knew. I knew that something was up. "I never gave my first name." I said sweetly. The dude stared at me, an eyebrow raised and a smile half hidden as if he was about to burst out laughing. And then, he threw down the empty pizza box and launched at me.

Honestly, he was a damn good fighter. I could match him, but he was still a bit better than me. We fought hand to hand, at least until I picked up a lamp and threw it at him, which he ducked, but did what I wanted - and Lani appeared, shouting: "HEY!" and properly distracted the gorgeous guy. Which let me take him out. Okay, I didn't knock him out, I got soft. He's like, really hot. Instead, I face planted him into my carpet.

"Don't bleed on it, I just got it cleaned," I said, pulling him up, where Lani pulled her gun carelessly.

"No wonder that prick got captured," he said, and his smooth British accent washed over me as Lani registered he was talking about Rowan.

"You attack us again, and Violet here bashes your face in with a vase," Lani said, waving her gun warningly. "And it's such a pretty face. Shame to waste it," I said, letting him up. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be like, good with America? Aren't Britain and America besties? Why are you attacking us? Seriously, we'll always come out on top."

The guy grinned, his blue green eyes twinkling. "Oh I'm sure you love to be on top," which made Lani stifle a groan, whether of embarrassment or 'seriously with the guys flirting with Violet again'.

* * *

Rowan heard all the noise outside, obviously noticing that Archie came to his rescue. Talk about delay. But it all went silent. He was getting nervous. Surely Archie won, right? They were just girls. _American_ girls!

Then came the rustling and the door opened, revealing Rowan's disappointment. Archie was smiling at him even though he was also captured by the two devils. Something must have gone on good if Archie smiled like he was in Year 2 again. Rowan, observing Archie, noticed Violet holding his bounded wrists in a very soft and scarily attached way. With him, she was rough, with Archie, she was far from rough. Then came the whispering thing in his ear, before Violet played her bad villain part, pushing him down by Rowan.

As the door closed, Rowan glared at Archie. "What the fuck, man! What's going on between you and that girl? And how on _Earth_ did you get beaten? Are you weak or something?"

It took Archie a couple of seconds to calm down before he head-butted Rowan. "Shut up, you're the one to talk since you, if I'm correct because I checked the CCTV cameras before erasing them, got knocked out by one, not two, but _one_ person!"

Rowan scowled. "Are you trying to be rude to me or something? You know I'm older than you, right? Respect your olders!"

Archie chuckled a little coldly. "And you know I'm your superior, right? So shut your French mouth, unless you want your salary to decrease."

Rowan muttered a curse word before he leaned back against the side of the bathtub. "They're going to try and get information out of us, you know."

He then looked over at Archie, shockingly, seemed to be a little pink. He wasn't innocent or anything…right?

"H-how?"

_Oh this is going to be fun._

* * *

**This fanfiction was brought to you by the Meatball Hunters and the Idasai.**

**Catherine &amp; co-writer Idasai (Id65).**


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